


how little difference a hundred years can make

by phybe



Category: Hyrule Warriors: Age of Calamity (Video Game), The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Bittersweet, Feelings, Love Confession, M/M, Selectively Mute Link (Legend of Zelda), i wrote this before i finished the game but it's really not that different, sidon is smitten in all timelines, sort of an alternate ending to age of calamity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:21:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29139231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phybe/pseuds/phybe
Summary: “Friends,” is what he ends up uttering. “Where I’m from, you are my dearest friend, Link.”Sidon excepts to see confusion or disbelief written all over this Link’s face, maybe even a laugh if he’s being pessimistic. Instead, when Sidon turns, the Hylian has a gentle smile on his face. His eyes are so bright, so blue, so… understanding.I know,Link signs.I can tell.______________________A conversation between Link from a hundred years ago, and Sidon from a hundred years later.
Relationships: Link/Prince Sidon
Comments: 6
Kudos: 191





	how little difference a hundred years can make

Sidon has started fading.

He’s known it would happen. Ever since he jumped into the portal, ever since he fought the Water Blight. Even as he saw his sister for the first time in a hundred years, he knew it couldn’t last. Sidon does not belong in this time, or rather — another Sidon does. A young, innocent Sidon who knows nothing of grief yet, and may never have to learn. 

Sidon’s fingers are numb, his body feels too light, and he knows that if he does not go back to the world where he belongs — the one where no one saved Mipha, where Link wasn’t there in time and his father had to grow old blaming himself for everything — if he does not go back now, he will die in this happier timeline, and lose everything.

He has to go.

In a way, Sidon is glad he doesn’t have a choice. He doesn’t know which he would pick. Would he stay here, in this world where his sister is alive and the world isn’t quite as broken, but where no one knows him as anything but a strange mirage? Or would he go back home, face Mipha’s glistening memorial, her absence still painfully felt all over the Domain? Could he face his father, knowing that the greatest tragedy of their lives could have been avoided with only a little more time? That this is what the end of their world hinged upon — _minutes_?

But home is where he belongs. It’s where he’s needed. Most of all, it’s where he is. His Link.

There is another Link, here. Sidon expected that, but it was still a shock to see him in his heavy armour, jumping in to save them from a killing blow. His Link is brilliant in combat, but he fights with a chaotic desperation, the moves of a boy forced to become a warrior all at once, quickly and alone. This Link is elegant. He’s had a life to train for this, teachers, comrades. He’s always had enough to eat. He’s had time. So when he fights against hordes of monsters, his technique is precise, and all his blows land true. It’s incredible to watch.

At the same time, it’s impossibly painful. This Link does not know him.

His eyes are blank when they come across Sidon. He only ever pays attention to him when they’re in a fight, because Link pays attention to _everything_ when he’s in a fight. At least he spoke to him, once. After they defeated the Water Blight and saved Mipha, Link touched his shoulder, and said a soft, heart-breakingly honest “thank you.” Even in this era Link’s words are precious rarities, so Sidon treasures the sound, intending to commit it to memory.

They could get to know each other. Perhaps they could even become friends, the way they did in another world, a hundred years later. Sidon likes to believe that in any timeline and any universe, Link could grow to smile and flush and quietly laugh at his jokes. Given time, that is, and there’s the rub. Time is unkind, and Sidon’s run out already.

It might be for the best. At least it’s not his choice to make. 

The princess and her little guardian have figured out how to re-open the portal. In the morning Sidon will go, along with the three other warriors who helped save the world and will not get to see it at peace. Tonight, they are feasting in one of the few rooms in Hyrule Castle that are still habitable; they are celebrating the sealing of the Calamity, the end of a long-expected prophecy. Until the next cycle, the next lifetime.

All night, Sidon has tried to enjoy Mipha’s presence as much as he can, asking everything he never got to ask, desperately making new memories of her he can bring back home and cherish tightly. His sister answers and gives him all she has, as sweet and kind as he remembers, but it’s obvious she’s uncomfortable. Mipha doesn’t know this Sidon, either, and she feels guilty about it. Sad, too. He is the door to a future where she didn’t make it, and who would want to be reminded of that after a glorious victory?

It’s painful for him, too.

So Sidon’s left the table, escaping to a balcony that has a lovely view of the ruins. He breathes in the dry air of Central Hyrule, far from the Zoya domain and even further from home.

He does not notice the boy, not until he hums his way. Sidon jumps, then — _Link_ is there. He isn’t in his armour, nor in his blue champion’s tunic. Instead, he’s wearing very simple fabrics of brown and beige, like he could almost blend in a crowd, if he weren’t so delicate and beautiful. 

“Oh, my, Link — my apologies! I did not mean to disturb you, I am terribly sorry, I will go immediately—”

Link chuckles, and cocks his head. _You can stay_ , he signs. _I don’t mind._

Sidon doesn’t know what does it. Maybe it’s the laugh. Maybe it’s the way his hands move so easily, so confidently, alongside the memory of having taught his Link the basics of sign language so they could communicate more easily. Whichever it is, tears pearl in Sidon’s eyes, and — Goddess, no. He’s crying.

Link looks at him, worried and a little confused. Sidon brushes the tears away hastily.

“Goodness, I am dreadfully sorry. It’s been, hum. Well, it’s been a long week.”

The boy nods and sighs in agreement. It’s been the longest week of their lives. They stay in silence for a while, then Link hops on the ledge and eyes him curiously.

 _Are you sad to be going back?_ He signs. 

“…Yes,” Sidon admits after a beat. “And happy, too. I’m leaving a lot behind, but…”

 _You have a lot to come back to,_ Link guesses.

Sidon nods and leans on the balcony, trying to ignore the way Link is looking at him, so intently — the most attention he’s given him all week. He tries to ignore how pretty this Link looks, too. Gems ornate his ears, some kind of diamond or opal pendants, and they reflect the moonlight beautifully. His Link likes jewels, too.

“You know, hm,” Sidon starts, wondering why he’s saying it even as he does, but the words just keep coming out, unbidden, “this may sound weird, but in my time, you and I… We are great... We fought alongside to free Vah’Ruta. Well, I suppose we did so in this time, too, but…” He bites his lip, quickly losing track of what he’s trying to say — let alone accomplish. “Friends,” is what he ends up uttering. “Where I’m from, you are my dearest friend, Link.”

Sidon excepts to see confusion or disbelief written all over this Link’s face, maybe even a laugh if he’s being pessimistic. Instead, when Sidon turns, the Hylian has a gentle smile on his face. His eyes are so bright, so blue, so… understanding.

 _I know,_ Link signs. _I can tell._

Sidon’s heart makes a painful thud. “You can?”

Link hums. _When I first saw you, I felt like I’d met you before. I felt this with all those that came from the future, but with you, there was something… different, I think._

“What do you mean?” Sidon asks, his throat tight. _Different_. He can’t tell if that’s good, or terrible, or both.

Link still has a mystifying, beautiful smile on his face. With a finger he gestures at Sidon to come closer, and Sidon does, spell-bound.

“The Link you know,” he murmurs, his voice quiet and rough. “He loves you very much. I feel it.”

Sidon looks into the blue eyes, breathless with shock. It shouldn’t be shocking; he knows Link… cares for him. He’s comfortable with him, makes the effort to speak when he can because he knows it makes Sidon giddy with happiness, allows Sidon to hug him where he recoils from touch from anyone else. In a way, he even knows Link _loves_ him — though he wouldn’t be so arrogant as to assume it’s the same kind of love Sidon feels, or of the same intensity, and none of that matters because Sidon will take any love from Link, in any form he’s willing to give.

But this is not his Link, and he knows. He _felt_ it. A century and a universe apart, and somehow, he felt…

Sidon looks away, feeling his blood rush. He hides his mouth in his hand, flustered. “Thank you for saying that,” he manages to stammer. “I… I love him very much, too.”

Link shrugs, coy. It seems he knew that too.

Sidon looks to the ruins of Central Hyrule, where the dawn has started to colour them with gentle hues. His fingers tighten on the balcony ledge, and he breathes.

Sidon thinks of Mipha, and the way she looked at him, how safe she felt whenever Link drew near. He knows that emotion well. He suspected he shared that particular ailment with his sister, when he saw the armour she’d made for Link, but seeing her this way confirmed it, and it’s made his feelings that much more complex and guilty.

“Can I ask you something?” Sidon asks.

Link nods.

“Do you love someone, in this time?”

The boy has a complicated expression — something subtle that might be seen as blank by the untrained eye. Sidon doesn’t know how to read this Link’s face, so he has no idea what the question made him feel.

Eventually, he signs, _I love my friends._

“I know, but I mean…”

He puts a hand up to cut him off. _I know what you mean. And I don’t have an answer._ He smiles and closes his eyes, feeling the wind as it brushes loose streaks of his hair. _I don’t want to know, not right now._

“I see,” Sidon says. He can understand that much. “What will you do, then?”

Link’s smile turns into a grin, joyful and dazzling and downright heart-stopping. It lights up his whole face. “Travel as far as I can go,” he whispers like a secret. “See _everything_.”

Sidon takes in the smile, and the boy, and the sun rising over the hills, endeared beyond belief.

It’s strange, how little difference a hundred years can make.

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently playing Zelda games always gives me Sidon feels, and Age of Calamity was no different. Who knows, I might even write a fic longer than a few pages one of these days! 
> 
> You can find me for art and writing and crying about zelda characters on:  
> instagram @jmlascar  
> tumblr @phy-be  
> twitter @julia_lascar


End file.
